s he knew, but this one suited him. That it had another occupant he
also knew, but this did not trouble him. He was too much interested in
the yellow glitter of real gold to think of danger. And he was half
dazed by the realization that there could be a gold mine like this in
Siberia. Alaska had gold, plenty of it, of course, and he was now less
than two hundred miles from Alaska, but he had never dreamed that the
dreary slopes of the Kamchatkan Peninsula could harbor such wealth.
Someone had been mining it, too, but that must have been months, perhaps
years, ago. The pick handles were rough with decay, the pans red with
rust.

Curiosity had led Johnny to this spot, a half mile from the native
village at the mouth of the Anadir River. He had been marooned again in
that village. They had covered three hundred miles on their last
journey, then had come another pause. This time, though he did not even
see his dogs about the village, Johnny felt sure that the Russian had
once more taken to hiding.

Having nothing else to do, Johnny had followed a narrow track up the
river. The track had come to an end at the entrance to the mine.
Thinking it merely a sort of crude cold storage plant for keeping meat
fresh, he had let himself down to explore it. Increasing curiosity had
led him on until he had discovered the gold. Now he had quite forgotten
the person whose tracks led him to the spot.

He was shocked into instant and vivid realization of peril by a cold
pressure on his temple and a voice which said in the preciseness of a
foreigner:

"Now I have you, sir. Now I shall kill you, sir."

In that instant Johnny prepared himself for his final earthly sensation.
He had recognized the voice of the Russian.

There came a click, then a snap. The next instant the revolver which had
rested against his forehead struck the frozen roof of the mine. The
weapon had missed fire and, between turns of the cylinder, Johnny's good
right hand had struck out and up.

The light snapped out, and in the midnight darkness of that icy cavern
the two grappled and fell.

Had Johnny been in possession of the full power of his left arm, the
battle would have been over soon. As it was they rolled over and over,
their bodies crushing frozen bits of pay-dirt, like twin rollers. They
struggled for mastery. Each man realized that, unless some unforeseen
power intervened, defeat meant death. The Russian fought with the
stubbornness of his race; fought u